


The Feminine Mystique

by UP2L8



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-12 07:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19224775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UP2L8/pseuds/UP2L8
Summary: Edward finds out something interesting about his boss. Something he can't resist exploring.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [FMA Kink Meme](https://fmakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/) over at Dreamwidth. There's not much over there right now, but head over and check it out anyway. You can leave a prompt for a scenario you've always hoped someone would write, or you might find something to feed your bunny, and then there will be more fun for everyone! You don't need an account to participate.
> 
> The prompt from Anonymous:  
> "RoyxEd, crossdressing
> 
> Edward finds himself in a position to overhear a conversation between someone and Roy that suggests that Roy has a secret fetish for men dressing convincingly as women. 
> 
> Ed, who has a thing for Roy but has always had any hints he gave the man carefully ignored, finds a way to work the need to cross-dress into a mission he is assigned with Roy and others. 
> 
> I would love a fic that involves lots of Roy trying desperately to hide how aroused Ed is making him (staring, sweating, ragged breathing, visible erection, precum stains, etc.) from Ed and the other people on the mission. 
> 
> If or how and when Roy finally cracks is totally up to the author. 
> 
> Edward upward of 16, please. Everything except “upward of 16” is flexible—if a certain detail of the above doesn’t suit your bunny, feel free to change it!
> 
> Thank you!"

It was only by chance that Edward was at Headquarters that evening. 

He’d wrapped up his assignment early and hopped on a train as soon as he could, beyond ready to leave the dreary little backwater town of Aarvik behind. The townsfolk had had more than their fair share of mistrust for the military, and despite the fact that the Fullmetal Alchemist had successfully shut down the chimera lab in their midst, they still wouldn’t give him the time of day or a room at their completely vacant inn. Ed was done sleeping in abandoned barns. So. Mission accomplished. Time to hit the road. 

The train got into Central late, and by the time Ed got to Headquarters most of the windows were dark. It was well after ten, and he didn’t expect anyone to be in the office to accept his report – in fact, he was counting on it. Ed had planned to slip in, drop his paperwork off on the bastard’s desk, and beat a hasty retreat. That way he could sleep in the next day and delay having to suffer his superior’s condescending smirk for a little longer. 

He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear the bastard’s melodic baritone, a quiet counterpoint to Breda’s urban drawl and Havoc’s subtle country twang. The door to Mustang’s inner office was ajar and their conversation could easily be overheard, so it definitely wasn’t about anything classified. What the hell were these three assholes doing in the office so late? Ed prepared to kick the door wide and find out, looking forward to the startled reaction he was sure to generate. 

“Hurry up and get promoted, Sir,” Havoc was almost pleading. “I’m depending on you to keep your promise.” 

Ed immediately aborted his original plan. This was interesting. Just what had Mustang promised that the Lieutenant was so desperately looking forward to? Was possible blackmail material up for grabs? Ed backed quietly away from the door, positioning himself behind Hawkeye’s desk, ready to duck down out of sight if necessary. 

“Patience, Lieutenant,” Mustang responded, the smirk loud and clear. “I _will_ become Führer, and my miniskirt army _will_ become reality. It’s only a matter of time.” 

“And I’d be careful what you wish for, Jean,” this from Breda, “I don’t think a miniskirt would suit you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Havoc’s tone was suspicious. 

“You didn’t know?” Breda asked, smug. “Our esteemed leader has a kink.” 

“Just one?” Havoc scoffed. “I’m at six and counting.” 

“You’re about to find out about number seven, and it’s a doozy," Breda warned. 

The ginger paused, probably for the suspense. Ed rolled his eyes, willing the man to just drop the bomb already. Breda did. 

“Men in skirts are his ultimate weakness.” 

Ed waited for the explosion. Mustang’s only response was a chuckle. There was no reaction from Havoc, or at least nothing Ed could hear, though he could easily picture the taller blond’s jaw hanging low. Ed’s certainly was. He had been pretty sure that Mustang wasn’t into men at all. A chair scrapped, someone standing up, and Ed shrank back further into the shadows. 

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, you’re perfectly safe,” Mustang said cheerfully. “I’m very demanding when it comes to this particular fetish. While I’ll admit that I find cross-dressing extremely erotic, it has to be done convincingly. My kink requires a man dressed as a _gorgeous, sexy_ woman. Simply wearing a dress won’t cut it, and I seriously doubt you could pull it off.” 

Footsteps approached the door to the outer office, and Ed quickly crouched down behind Hawkeye’s desk. 

“That’s one challenge I won’t take,” Havoc muttered as he followed his smirking commander and his sniggering friend to the exit. “I definitely don’t have the legs for it, and besides, I strike out enough with women. I have no plans to try batting for the other team. There’s only so much rejection a man can take.” 

The three soldiers left, Havoc closing the door behind them. A key grated in the lock, and then their footsteps faded down the hallway. 

Edward stayed where he was, sitting cross-legged on the floor behind Hawkeye’s desk, mulling over what he’d heard. 

In recent years Ed had built a solid working relationship with his commander. While the older man still attempted to push his youngest subordinate’s buttons, their interactions had gradually evolved into something resembling amusing banter, which Edward had come to enjoy. It was only natural; at eighteen, Ed had been under Mustang’s command for six years. 

That was a long time to be crushing on someone. 

Edward had had a thing for his ridiculously attractive commander for nearly as long as he had known him. It had taken a while to admit it, and he had been in denial for what seemed like forever, but Ed had always been a bad liar, even to himself. When he was younger he’d done his best to ignore it and was mostly successful, hiding it behind anger, belligerence, and a fuck you attitude. When he’d turned eighteen, he had decided to test the waters by throwing Mustang a few hints that he was interested. They had all been carefully ignored. 

Up until now Ed had figured it was because Mustang wasn’t attracted to men, but from what Ed had learned tonight, that wasn’t the case. Maybe it was time to find out, once and for all, where Mustang stood and whether or not Ed had a chance with him. 

And this crossdressing thing might be a way for Ed to tip the scale in his favor. 

It would take time and effort to do it right, but that was fine with Ed. He was a practiced investigator, a superb researcher, and stubbornly determined. This self-imposed mission would require exercising all of his considerable talents, but he could definitely handle it. 

In short, this was a challenge that Edward would definitely take.


	2. Setting the Stage

It took Edward almost two months to prepare. 

The first month was devoted entirely to research and covert observation, focusing on women in their early twenties of build and stature similar to his own. Ed dove resolutely into the world of women’s fashion, determined to find a style that would suit him. He thought he’d feel weird, exploring such alien territory, but was surprised to find that he didn’t. He actually enjoyed it, and found it kind of funny that while he never cared much about the clothes he wore as a man, he was taking a great deal of care with the selection of the clothes he would be wearing as a woman. 

Ed also took the time to study how the mannerisms of men and women differed. If he was going to effectively pull this off, he wanted to make sure he didn’t blow it on a technicality. 

His research complete, Ed set about assembling his wardrobe, which he also found strangely enjoyable. Wary of the Central City gossip mill, he only shopped when out of town, not wanting his secret revealed too soon. Since he couldn’t reliably predict the circumstances wherein he would eventually present the fruits of his labours, he found a few different outfits to cover a number of possible bases, complete with their relevant accessories, from semi-formal to strictly casual. 

There were so many aspects of this masquerade to consider, and while the clothing was an essential element, so was the presentation – from a tastefully made up face, suitably styled hair, coordinated accessories, and diligent practice to master walking gracefully in heels. It wasn’t easy, but Ed covered every single angle. 

The process was thoroughly engaging, like a game, and to be completely honest, Ed was beginning to envy women their clothing. It wasn't just because of how the softer materials felt against his skin; there was so much variety. Men’s cloths were boring as hell by comparison. 

It also didn’t hurt that in heels, he could claim a bit more height. 

When he finally felt he was ready, Edward settled in to wait for the perfect opportunity to spring his carefully prepared trap. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long, because the Fullmetal Alchemist wasn’t known for his patience, and honestly, he could hardly wait to see Mustang’s reaction. Either way, it was sure to be priceless. 

Ed had been in Central for nearly a week. Dividing his down time between the office and the library while he waited for an assignment, he walked in on a strategy session one late afternoon. Mustang’s team had been assigned to investigate a suspected fencing operation fronted by a nightclub in the downtown core. 

Normally crimes of this nature would be left in the hands of the police, but in this case the stolen merchandise allegedly being offered for sale was of military origin. To be specific: rifles, ammunition, and other assorted ordnance. Another unit had been assigned to the case, but had been unable to find concrete evidence to confirm that the club owners were involved, or where they might be stashing the contraband. Worse, the suspects had been tipped off that they were under suspicion and had become extremely wary of strangers, sniffing out undercover operatives almost before they entered the club. 

Mustang’s command had inherited the mess, and was expected to resolve it. 

The team was gathered around the big table in the center of the outer office when Ed showed up, files and photographs spread out for easy viewing. 

“Club Indigo is owned by two brothers, Cole and Nico Rollins,” Hawkeye read from a file. “The younger brother, Nico, is the brains behind the operation. The older one, Cole, is listed as the manager of the club, but spends most evenings drinking at the bar. Colonel Garner considered Cole to be the weak link, and his operative’s plan centered on getting friendly enough for the suspect to slip up and talk about the club’s side operation. It backfired when Cole got the operative drunk enough to slip up and reveal his actual purpose.” 

Everyone in the room snickered. 

“Garner’s plan was sound,” Mustang mused. “The problem was in it’s execution.” He looked around the table, a raised eyebrow inviting suggestions. 

“Maybe we can turn the tables. One of us might be able to get this Cole guy drunk enough to talk without blowing it.” Havoc frowned. “I’d volunteer, but when it comes to drinking I’m kind of a lightweight.” 

Everyone hummed their agreement. 

“I think that Second Lieutenant Breda would have the best chance of staying under their radar,” Warrant Officer Falman proposed. “He has the street smarts to effectively blend into the scenery.” 

“And I can hold my liquor,” Breda added with a grin. 

“I think Lieutenant Hawkeye would be a better choice,” Sergeant Fuery countered. “Club Indigo is a popular night spot and gets plenty of unaccompanied women patrons. The suspects might be more likely to overlook a woman undercover, and she may not have to get the target drunk. He might be inclined to brag to a pretty woman.” Kain blushed, glancing at Hawkeye apologetically. “I could hide a wireless transmitter on the Lieutenant so we can record any conversations, and provide back up if necessary.” 

“I’d be willing to accept the assignment,” Hawkeye said. 

The team paused to consider their options, and Edward jumped at his chance. 

“No offence,” he said, “but all of you are a little too old for that place.” All eyes turned to him. “Indigo is a dance club. Their band plays mostly swing and ragtime jazz. Most of the crowd are young professionals and students from Central and McMaster University. Anyone much over thirty is going to stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that, for all the wrong reasons.” 

Mustang’s condescending smirk took center stage. “Are you volunteering for this mission Fullmetal?” he asked. “I think your own distinctive features would stick out far more than any of us would.” He looked pointedly at Edward’s metal hand with a raised eyebrow. 

Ed snorted. “Give me some credit, Colonel,” he said, a confident smile on his face. “I’ve taken on tougher assignments. For me, a mission like this is a piece of cake.” 

Mustang considered Ed’s proposal while the rest of his team, Ed included, awaited his verdict. 

“Alright, Fullmetal,” he finally conceded. “The assignment is yours if your disguise is suitable. I personally don’t think it will be. Prove me wrong.” 

“With pleasure,” Edward said, his self-confident bravado making Mustang frown. “I’ll need time to get ready, and our target needs time to have a few drinks before I get there. Let’s meet at the club around nine." 

The stage was set, and Edward could hardly contain his excitement.


	3. The Big Reveal

Roy and his team sat in an unmarked van parked a couple of blocks away from Club Indigo, waiting for Edward. It was nearly nine o’clock, and Roy could feel his team’s anticipation. They all wondered, Roy included, what form Edward’s disguise might take.

As he had stated, the Colonel didn’t think Edward could do much to effectively disguise himself. As the Fullmetal Alchemist he was quite well known, and his distinctive features – long blond hair, automail limbs, brash manner – were recognised characteristics of the People’s Alchemist. Roy couldn’t afford to compromise the mission by sending in an obvious plant, so his backup plan was for Hawkeye to go in hooked up to Kain Fuery’s wireless contraption and hope for the best. 

Still, the confident smirk Edward had shot over his shoulder as he left the office had given Roy pause. If his youngest subordinate could pull this off, well, it wouldn’t be the first time he surprised his superior. 

A sharp, metallic rap on the back door of the van in coded pattern signaled the young man’s arrival. Hawkeye threw open the door. 

And in stepped a vision. 

It was most definitely Edward, of that Roy was sure. But at the same time, it was not. Roy’s eyes were locked on a familiar face made intriguingly unfamiliar. 

The face of a gorgeous, captivating woman. 

Edward wasn’t wearing much in the way of makeup, but it had been applied in expert fashion. A warm shade of pink for his lips, a light blush of rose for his cheeks, and for his eyes- 

Roy barely managed to keep his low moan of appreciation internal as he met Edward’s eyes. Shadow of shimmering copper was accented with a darker tone in the crease and highlighted with a lighter shade above, skillfully blended. Dark brown eyeliner widened Ed’s eyes and changed warm gold to a deeper, enigmatic amber. 

Edward’s hair was perfection as well. He had styled it in a simple chignon, looped, coiled, and tucked to the nape of his neck. His flyaway bangs were feathered to frame his face in soft, gleaming gold. Only his antenna had refused to be tamed; it still stood at attention, centered in his part. 

Roy forced his eyes away from this vision and knew he was in trouble. 

Roy had always considered Edward very attractive, and though he knew Ed was interested, Roy had chosen to feign ignorance for propriety’s sake. As soon as Roy noticed that Ed was maturing into a very striking young man – and just Roy’s type – Roy had deemed him off limits in the interest of self preservation. The Major was fourteen years his junior, under his command, and there were plenty of other attractive fish in the sea who were much safer choices for a certain career-driven someone with his sights set on the Führership.

But now . . . 

Now Edward was Roy’s most compelling erotic fantasy brought to life. 

“Well, Mustang? Do I pass muster?” Edward wasn’t trying to disguise his voice, just speaking a little more quietly, a softer tenor, very much like the purr of a sleepy jungle cat. It resonated deep in Roy’s groin. “How do I look?” 

"You look . . ." 

Roy was afraid to take in the full picture, his mouth already dry, but take it in he did. 

It was exactly as devastating as he had expected. 

Delicate and lacy, the elegant dress Edward wore was stunning, and Ed looked beyond amazing in it. Form-fitting silk, deep red with patterns artfully embroidered in black gave the illusion of a narrower waist and wider hips. Roy wasn’t sure how Edward had managed to simulate cleavage, but it appeared perfectly natural, while a black lace choker beaded in red and gold served to cover the more masculine aspects of his throat. Loose, translucent sleeves, black with intricate red stitching, reached to his wrists, and it took a moment for Roy to realize that a tight tan undersleeve hid Edward’s automail flawlessly. Black lace gloves, again with a tan liner, served to conceal his metal hand. Roy’s eyes were drawn lower. Though the dress was knee length, a black fringe dropped to mid calf, swaying provocatively around Ed’s legs like smoke. Black stockings of fine silk, seams impeccably straight, showcased Ed’s shapely calves, and once again the automail was faultlessly hidden. A pair of dark red, two-inch ankle strap platforms completed the picture. 

"You look . . ." Roy didn't have the breath to finish the sentence. Edward was, quite literally, breathtaking. 

Havoc finished the thought for all of them. 

“Holy shit, Boss,” he said, flushed and swallowing hard. “You’re . . . fuck! You’re _hot_ as _hell_.” 

Edward’s self-assured smile was proof enough that he knew _exactly_ how good he looked. 

And Roy realized that he was staring. For the second time in under two minutes he tore his eyes away from Edward and made a concerted effort to regain his composure. It wasn’t easy. Worse, another part of Roy’s anatomy had perked up and taken notice. 

Fuery held up a small electronic device, about the size of a lipstick tube, and took a timid step closer to Ed. “Can I put this on you?” he asked, obviously flustered. “It’s a microphone. So we can listen. To you. And whoever. 

“Sure,” Ed said. “Where would be the best place to hide it?” 

Fuery was staring at Ed’s cleavage. “Uh . . .” 

“Oh. Of course. Right here.” Ed dipped his fingers into the cleft and Roy broke into a sweat. 

Fuery had flushed a bright red, and his hand shook noticeably as he tucked the mic in place, out of sight below Ed’s scoop neckline. He adjusted the cloth, making sure that the device could not be detected, then realized he was nearly fondling his comrade-in-arms and snatched his hands away. 

“S-sorry,” he stuttered. “That material feels . . . really soft.” 

Edward shrugged, unoffended. 

And Roy felt a flare of pure envy rush through him. He wanted to feel that softness for himself, run his hands over that cloth, test it against his fingers, experience the sensation. He wanted to _touch_. 

And now he was at least half mast, and could feel a distinct dampness in his boxers. Roy was beginning to leak, damn it. He shifted his stance, trying to ease some of the pressure and caught Hawkeye from the corner of his eye, watching him. He glanced her way to note the slightly amused tilt of her lips. 

Sometimes it was really annoying that she knew him so well. 

“I can’t put a receiver on you,” Kain continued. “It would have to go over your ear, and it’s too big to hide.” 

“No problem,” Ed said. “I don’t need the Colonel whispering sweet nothings into my ear. I can do my own thinking.” Ed turned to his commander and winked. 

Roy’s knees felt a bit . . . weak. 

“We need to test the connection,” Falman stated, apparently unaffected by Edward’s appearance – except for the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. “If the major would step out of the van and walk a short distance away?” 

The van was parked in a dingy back alley out of sight from the main street. Ed stepped out. Roy was right behind him, and he noted that in heels, Ed was only slightly shorter than he was. They walked some little distance down the alley, Roy marvelling at the ease with which Edward was moving in high platforms. His gait was smooth, natural, and the sway of Ed’s hips had Roy completely enchanted. Ed suddenly stopped and raised his left shin, toe pointed back, twisting aside to adjust the strap around his ankle. He ran a fingertip up the seam of his silk stocking, then glanced sideways at Roy from half lidded eyes, a small smile on his lips. 

Was Ed deliberately teasing him? Roy’s heart rate ramped up a notch. 

“Testing, one, two, three.” Ed said softly. “Can you hear me, Sergeant?” 

The pair looked back toward the van to see Havoc giving them the thumbs up. 

“Testing, one, two, three,” Roy intoned in a normal speaking voice. “Can you hear me Sergeant?” 

Another thumbs up. 

“See you later, bastard,” Ed purred. 

Then, femininity in excelsis as he walked gracefully away, he left Roy to get back to the van, disgruntled, flustered, and trying to conceal a full-on erection. He hoped the precome that was leaving his boxers damp wouldn’t leak through as a visible wet spot on his uniform pants. 

Although from the looks of it, every man in the surveillance van was having a similar problem to some degree with this unprecedented turn of events regarding their youngest colleague. The only one taking it all in stride was Hawkeye, and her subtle smile was a clear indication that she found the whole situation quite amusing.


	4. The Show on the Road

“Put him on the speaker,” Roy advised. 

Kain jacked the feed through a speaker as instructed. The tap of Ed’s heels on the pavement was the only sound at first, aside from the occasional hiss of a passing car once he was out of the alley. As he got closer to the club, smooth rhythmic jazz trickled through, gradually getting louder. 

“Looks busy tonight,” Edward said softly. The music was suddenly much louder, indicating that Ed had entered the club. After a moment, he said, “I see the target. He’s sitting at the bar. I’m not going to engage; I’ll take a seat at the other end and see if he’ll come to me.” 

A good strategy, Roy had to admit. 

The van was silent except for the jumble of music, conversation, and laughter coming from the speaker. Roy’s team waited, listening intently. Ed was asked to dance three times before his strategy proved successful. 

“Is this stool taken?” an unfamiliar voice asked. 

“Dude.” Edward answered, unimpressed. “Someone is sitting there.” 

“I’m the owner.” The voice had become stern. “Beat it.” A stool scraped. “There. Now it’s open. May I?” 

Ed’s low laugh was deep throated and sensual, and how had Roy never noticed before? 

“Be my guest,” Ed invited. “Or I’ll be yours, I guess. The owner, huh?" 

“Yup.” The alleged owner popped the ‘p’. “I haven’t seen you here before, and I’d have noticed someone like you. Can I buy you a drink?” Ed hummed an affirmative, and the man raised his voice again. “I’ll have a draught, and the lady would like another, Carl.” 

“Bartenura Moscato, if you please,” Ed said. 

“So, where you from?” Rollins asked. The voice was closer. He had taken a seat. 

“East City,” Ed answered. “I’m here on business.” 

“What kind of business?” 

“The private kind.” 

Rollins chuckled. 

“A friend of mine recommended this place, actually,” Edward confided. “Max Wilers, he owns-” 

“The Loaded Dog! Yeah, I’ll have to thank ol’ Maxie for sending you my way next time I’m in East.” 

“If you’re the owner of this place, you must be Nico.” Ed had examined the photos; he knew he was speaking to Cole. What was he up to? 

Rollins’ frown was loud and clear when he answered. “Nico is my little brother. I’m Cole.” 

“Nice to meet you, Cole,” Ed said unperturbed. “I’m Eddie. No offence. Max didn’t mention that Nico had a brother.” 

Cole huffed. It sounded like his thank you to Maxie was off the table. “We’re co-owners of Club Indigo,” he clarified. 

“Cool,” Ed was smiling. “I have a younger brother too. He’s in Xing, soaking up the culture.” 

Over the course of the next hour, the pair bantered back and forth, exchanging minor details of their lives, and generally shooting the shit. Ed wasn’t behaving any differently from his natural character, and that was definitely working for him; the bar owner was getting more loquacious by the minute. Cole had switched to whiskey after downing his beer while Ed had continued to opt for sparkling white wine. When Cole finished his third whiskey, Ed pulled the conversation back to business. 

“So. Do you expect your brother to show up tonight?” Ed asked, all innocence. 

“I wish you’d quit bringin’ up my brother,” Cole pouted, voice slurring slightly. 

Cole sounded more than a little inebriated to Roy, and given the pace of his alcohol intake he was probably quite drunk. Ed, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected despite the fact that he had matched Cole drink for drink. 

“Sorry about that,” Ed returned. “It’s just . . .” He hesitated. 

“It’s just what, Eddie?” Cole’s tipsy concern was genuine. 

It took a moment for Ed to answer. “I . . . you know that business I’m in town for? Well, I was told that Nico might be able to help me with it.” His voice was low, and slightly apologetic. 

Roy could hardly believe it. The Fullmetal Alchemist, Mr. Tactless himself, renowned as a one-man demolition squad and human battering ram when it came to field assignments, was finessing the _hell_ out of his target. He was playing Cole like a concert violin. 

This was a side of Edward Elric that Roy Mustang never knew existed. 

The band struck up the intro to an upbeat Ragtime number. 

“Dance with me,” Cole said. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Ed returned, surprising everyone in the van. 

And Roy had had enough. “I’m going in,” he said. 

“Sir-” 

“I’m going in, Lieutenant.” Roy had to see this, and there was no way Hawkeye could change his mind. Not even the threat of a gunshot wound would stop him. 

Roy left the van, slamming the door behind him to make it clear that he was going alone. Casually dressed, he didn’t draw any unwanted attention when he got to the main street and hurried to the club, slowing his approach as he got near. The bouncer on the door frowned as he walked inside but made no move to stop him. 

Scanning the dance floor, Roy spotted Ed immediately. 

He was dancing the Charleston with wild abandon and absolutely _owning_ it. Roy didn’t know why he was surprised. Edward was a master of martial arts, and dancing was a similar physical discipline. The young man was thoroughly enjoying himself, lost completely in the distinctive five-stroke rhythm, legs and arms swinging smoothly in counterpoint, the fringe of his skirt swirling. Edward was poetry in motion, and Roy was staring again. He wondered if Edward could Tango. If not, Roy wanted to teach him; he was positive that Edward would be _magnificent_. 

At that point Roy removed his trench coat and draped it over his arm in front of his crotch. His massive erection would have been obvious otherwise. 

Ed suddenly noticed him standing just inside the entryway, and the wide, delighted grin fell off his face to shatter on the floor. He grabbed for Rollins’ arm and pulled him off the dance floor, casting a fearful glance in Roy’s direction. 

What the hell? 

Roy stood his ground, wondering what was going on, and what to do next. He peered in the direction of Edward’s retreat, but couldn’t catch a glimpse of that rich crown of gold, or any other part of him for that matter. Roy was just about to give up and leave when he noticed Nico Rollins parting the crowd, making a bee-line for him. 

“Good evening, Colonel Mustang,” Rollins said with a smile that was all business. “Welcome to Club Indigo. Come to dance, have you?” 

So. He had been recognized. “In a manner of speaking,” Roy stated mildly. 

“I hope that the ‘manner’ of dancing you are ‘speaking’ about won’t interfere with the other patrons’ enjoyment of their evening.” Nico wasn’t smiling anymore. “This is a private establishment, and we’re very protective of our guests.” 

“Your guests are perfectly safe from me,” Roy said, placing just a touch of emphasis on ‘guests’. 

“After bigger fish, then,” Nico mused aloud. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.” He signaled to the bouncer at the door. “Not smart, Colonel, to let us know that you are the new dog on our trail. We’ll be watching out for you.” 

“As well you should,” Roy smirked, turning to leave. “Until next time, Mr. Rollins.” 

Hands in pockets, Roy hurried back to the van, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He had put the entire mission at risk because he wanted to see Edward dancing. He was behaving like a smitten school boy shadowing his first crush. He had to get himself under control, damn it!


	5. Frustration

When he got back to the van, Roy was greeted by dead silence and Hawkeye’s accusing glare. He chose to ignore it. 

“Status report, Sergeant,” Roy demanded, just as Ed’s voice came from the speaker. 

“I’m sorry, Cole,” Edward said. “I’m afraid I’ve brought my troubles to your doorstep.” 

“No,” a voice Roy recognized as Nico Rollins’ interrupted. “The military is already investigating us. I don’t think Mustang was here for you.” 

“I should leave. Can you show me to the back door?” 

“I thought you wanted to do business,” Cole said. 

“Business?” This was obviously news to Nico. “Who sent you?” 

“Max Wiler may have mentioned your name,” Ed admitted. “I have some friends who are in the market for heavy-duty fireworks. They’re planning a jamboree in the near future, and they want to generate as much excitement as possible.” 

The Rollins brothers thought it over. 

“Can you meet us tomorrow night?” Nico asked. He likely wanted to check out Ed’s story. “Not here. On the boardwalk. There’s a bar called Tino’s. Let’s say eleven o’clock.” 

“I’ll be there,” Ed confirmed. “Now, about that back door?” 

“Right this way.” Cole said. The sound of footsteps. The clatter of a busy kitchen. The click of a latch. The squeak of hinges. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie,” he said softly. 

Ed’s response must have been non-verbal. A moment later the tap of his heels was all that could be heard. 

A full minute passed quietly before Ed spoke. 

“I’m going to make my way to Headquarters,” he said softly. “Heading for the van right now would be risky if I’m being tailed, and I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances. I’ll implement evasive maneuvers just in case. See you soon.” 

And that was all, except for Ed’s hurried steps and ambient street noise. 

“You can take that off speaker, Sergeant,” Roy advised, “but continue to record and monitor Fullmetal’s progress.” 

“Sir!” Fuery responded with a smart salute. 

“Second Lieutenant Havoc, get us to Headquarters ASAP.” 

“Sir!” Havoc’s salute was as sloppy as usual. 

“First Lieutenant Hawkeye, please stop glaring at me. I’m well aware that I screwed up.” 

“Sir!” Hawkeye’ salute was crisp; then she turned away, probably still frowning. Roy knew he was in for a private reprimand from his trusted adjutant at her earliest convenience. 

The drive back to Headquarters was quiet. Everyone was lost in their own musings about how the mission was unfolding, but willing to hold their observations private until the entire team was assembled. 

Uncharacteristically, Roy’s thoughts were a jumbled mess. His rampant erection had finally receded, leaving the cool dampness in his undershorts as an unwanted reminder of its cause. This was beyond unacceptable. He had lost control, and Edward was to blame. 

That sly glance in the alley was a clear indication that Edward was pushing his commander’s buttons on purpose. Maybe he had known in advance about Roy’s fetish for crossdressing, or maybe Edward had picked up on it from Roy’s reaction to him, but either way, Edward had used it against him, and that was intolerable. 

When the team trooped into the office, Edward was already there, perched on the edge of Hawkeye’s desk. Leaning back on his hands with his legs crossed, he was fucking _gorgeous_. 

Havoc was the first to speak up. “Boss, you are a star!” he said with great conviction. 

Which brought Roy’s blood to a full boil. He turned to Havoc. “How do you mean that, Second Lieutenant?” he asked coldly. “Is he a star because he drank far too much on this assignment, thereby putting himself and the mission at risk? Is he a star because he dropped a civilian’s name to a suspected criminal, thus putting him in harm’s way? Is he a star for manipulating a suspect who is obviously attracted to him? Please do elaborate.” 

Everyone was shocked to silence. 

Except for Ed. 

“Allow me,” Ed said to Havoc before hopping off the desk to advance on his commander until they were almost toe to toe. “Number one. I didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol tonight. I’m an alchemist, duh. I chose a sparking white wine so that when I alchemised the alcohol into water and carbon dioxide it wouldn’t be noticeable.” 

“Fullmetal-” 

“Shut up and listen, bastard,” Edward snarled, furious, and Roy did as he was told. “Number two. Major Max Wilers has been undercover in East City for so long he’s established himself as a legit criminal. He’s also an old friend who owes me bigtime. I spoke with him earlier and he agreed to back up my story.” 

As his temper cooled, Roy was starting to feel guilty. Even with limited time to prepare, it appeared that Edward had meticulously planned his strategy, and Roy had no right to call his actions into question without cause, commander or not. 

“Number three. Cole Rollins is a gun runner. If he is attracted to me, that helps me get the job done. When it’s all over, I’ll feel just as sorry for him as he feels for all the innocents he’s hurt by selling guns to the wrong people. So fuck you.” 

Roy’s final point had been a calculated jab at someone he knew cared deeply for others. His anger evaporated, revealed as a response to Roy’s shame for his own behaviour that evening. 

Edward was not finished. “If you want me off the mission for some reason, say so. But I had to do some major fucking damage control tonight for _someone_ who let his dick do his thinking for him. Granted your screwup put me in a good position to accelerate the sting, but don’t you dare try to minimize my contribution to this assignment, or put me down for the way I chose to tackle it.” 

And now Roy’s mortification was complete. 

“I’m heading home. It’s been a long night and my foot is killing me; these heels are a bitch. If it’s not too much trouble,” Ed said sarcastically to the room, “maybe someone can get intel on this Tino’s place. If I’m still going in,” he raised an eyebrow at Roy, who nodded curtly, “I’d like to know what to expect.” 

Ed’s heels clacked angrily on the hardwood as he stomped to the exit, shooting a glare at Roy on the way. 

“Have a lovely evening, asshole,” he snarled. 

The door slammed behind him.


	6. Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut ahead.

The echo of the slammed door had barely faded when Hawkeye spoke up. 

“Permission to speak freely, Sir,” she asked at stiff attention. 

Roy _really_ wanted to say no. 

“Permission granted, First Lieutenant,” Roy reluctantly conceded. 

“I’m shocked and deeply dismayed by your behaviour tonight, Sir,” she stated, voice coldly formal. “You violated protocol with what could have been disastrous results, all to satisfy your curiosity. Your actions were completely unprofessional. Major Elric on the other hand conducted himself with utmost professionalism, advancing the mission much farther than any of us could have hoped to in so short a time, and minimizing the damage caused by your lapse in judgement as well. Your response was to berate and demean him. You should be ashamed of yourself.” 

Roy glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of everyone present. It came as no surprise that all he found was disappointment. He was disappointed with himself, truth be told. 

“I am, Lieutenant,” he admitted. “I wish I could say that I don’t know what came over me, but unfortunately, I do. I’m sorry.” 

“I think you’re apologizing to the wrong person, Chief,” Havoc said quietly, to a hum of agreement from the rest of his staff. 

That was also the truth. And the sooner Roy rectified his mistake, the better. Edward had not deserved to be treated so unfairly and it was up to Roy to make it right. 

“Agreed,” Roy said. “I will take care of that directly. In the mean time, we should all get some rest. As Major Elric pointed out, it’s been a long day. Let’s get an early start tomorrow. We will debrief, and then see what we can dig up on Tino’s. The Rollins brothers must have some connection to that establishment if they feel safe enough to conduct sensitive business there. Dismissed.” 

Leaving Headquarters, Roy took a deep calming breath, preparing to face the music. He knew where all his officers lived of course. Edward’s flat was close to Central Command, so he decided to walk, thereby giving himself a chance to plan what he wanted to say. 

Which amounted to an apology, and possibly an explanation for his behaviour. His plan did not include making any excuses, because while Roy still believed that Edward had been deliberately teasing him, that in no way excused Roy’s actions. His lapse of self control was his own fault entirely, and Roy really should have known better than to take his frustrations out on the younger man. 

Edward’s building was a small, two story brownstone on a quiet side street. Roy had never actually been inside, so he had to check the mailboxes to discover that Edward was in apartment 202. He walked up the stairs to the second floor, found the apartment, and knocked without hesitation. 

It took a few moments before he heard movement from within the flat. He looked directly at the peephole in the door because he knew Edward was looking back. Then the door swung open to reveal his scowling subordinate. 

“What the hell do you want now, Mustang?” the younger man snapped. He was still wearing that sinfully attractive dress, though he had removed his heels. “I’m off the clock, and I don’t have to take any more of your bullshit tonight.” 

“Since when have you _ever_ taken any of my bullshit?” Roy asked with all seriousness. “I can’t recall a single instance where you meekly put up with _anyone’s_ bullshit. Tonight, for example, you called me out with swift efficiency, and I unquestionably deserved your scorn. I am here to apologize for my behaviour.” 

Edward looked at him blankly for a moment; he obviously hadn’t been expecting that. “Okay,” he said, “apology accepted. Have a nice evening. This time for real." 

“I would also like to offer an explanation for my behaviour, if you have the time.” 

Edward crossed his arms over his chest, drawing Roy’s eyes to his cleavage. He quickly pulled them back to Ed’s face. 

“Privately, if it’s not too much of an imposition,” Roy clarified. 

Ed moved aside, arms still crossed, and Roy stepped inside the apartment. Ed closed the door and stood by it, waiting. 

“First of all, I also want to apologize for what happened at the club.” Roy took a deep breath. “You described what happened with perfect accuracy.” 

Ed raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“‘Someone let his dick do his thinking’, is how you phrased it I believe,” Roy clarified. 

“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Ed confirmed, straight faced. 

“When I heard you accept Cole’s invitation to dance, I couldn’t resist the urge to watch." Roy kept his eyes firmly on Ed's, owing him an honest explanation. "I had been thrown off balance from the moment you stepped into the van in your incredibly convincing disguise; I lost control of myself completely at the thought of you, dressed as you are now, on the dancefloor.” 

Ed opened his mouth to reply, but Roy held up a hand to stop him. 

“I rarely lose control,” Roy continued. “I was highly disturbed when I lost it tonight, on duty, consequently interfering with a subordinate engaged in a delicate sting operation. I wanted to blame it on you. That was unfair. Your effect on me was my problem, and dealing with it was my responsibility, not yours.”

Edward’s arms finally uncrossed, and he sighed. 

“It’s my fault too,” he said, moving past Roy into the small living room. “I know you’re into guys dressed as women.” Ed turned to face Roy, eyes downcast. “I guess you know I’m . . . . interested. I dropped you a few hints, but you didn’t acknowledge them. When I found out about your kink, I thought crossdressing might be a good way to catch your attention. It took me a couple of months to work out the best way to present myself in female clothing, and was just waiting for a good opportunity to surprise you.” He looked up and fixed his eyes on Roy’s. “Showing up for the assignment in drag was a mistake.” 

Edward had done all this for him? That turned Roy on even more. His ego was, after all, of legendary proportions. 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Roy stated firmly, pulling his mind back to the matter at hand. “I’ve never had the pleasure of observing your technique on a covert assignment. Based on what I saw tonight, I must state, unequivocally, that you are very good at what you do. That said, I believe your disguise played a definitive role in your success with the suspect this evening.” 

Edward nodded, but still appeared downhearted. 

Roy decided to take the bull by the horns. “One of the reasons that your disguise had such a profound effect on me was because I find you very attractive as a man, too,” Roy admitted. “I ignored your subtle advances in the past because I decided that keeping our relationship strictly professional was in both our best interests. The rumor mill at Central Command is relentless, and if discovered, an affair between a superior officer and his much younger, male subordinate would negatively impact both our reputations and careers.” 

Edward nodded again, glumly. 

“Well, like I said, apology accepted.” Ed muttered, “It’s late, and I need to get out of this dress.” 

“I could help you with that,” Roy offered. 

Ed’s head jerked up in surprise. “But . . . I thought you said-” 

“I said, ‘if discovered’.” 

Ed took his time, considering the implications, weighing his options. Then he slowly turned his back, in rejection Roy was sure, but that was not the case. Instead, Ed reached up to loose his hair from the messy chignon that confined it. A wealth of gold tumbled free to well below his shoulders. 

Roy was on him in a flash, pressed up against his back. 

Ed was offering so much, and Roy hardly knew where to start. His hands laced into honeyed locks, gripping tightly to tilt Ed’s head. Their first kiss was messy at this awkward angle, but that seemed fitting given the nature of their relationship. It took nothing away from the heat and passion on both sides. Roy drank in Edward’s flavor as the kiss deepened, their tongues exploring, the two finally parting with a gasp. 

Roy roved his hands over Ed’s silk covered body, tracing shoulders both flesh and metal, a well muscled chest under straps and padding, a tense, toned abdomen, Ed shivering under his touch. The couch was just ahead and Roy nudged Edward forward until he was bent over it with his forearms braced on the backrest, Roy draped over him. 

Edward hummed, coaxing, and Roy couldn’t help but growl in response even as he parted Ed’s hair and leaned down to press his lips to Edward’s nape. Ed turned his head to the side, exotic amber half lidded, setting Roy on fire. Roy nuzzled into Ed’s neck, teeth nipping at an ear lobe. It made Roy purr, to discover how Ed tasted, to find out how it felt to be pressed against the silky cloth covering Edward’s back. The warmth of his skin and the delicate floral scent of Ed’s perfume were soothing, while the heat of Ed’s gaze edged Roy’s desire ever higher. He could have happily stayed there, just like that, indulging his senses for a while. 

But it was time to indulge his eager and inquisitive libido as well. Roy reached down and grabbed two handfuls of Edward’s dress to slowly, slowly pull it up to his waist. 

Edward had thought of _everything_. 

The silk stockings were clipped to a lacy black garter belt, the straps stretched tight over Ed’s muscular thighs. The icing on the cake, however, was the matching lace panties. Roy ran his hands over them, appreciating how the fine cloth felt on the firmness of Edward’s perfect ass. He slipped a finger under one garter strap to snap it against Ed’s thigh, groaning at Ed’s sharp intake of breath. 

Roy pressed a knee between Ed’s legs to part them and settled his hands on Ed’s hips, then reached around to cup Ed’s growing erection through tight silk. He leaned once again to nuzzle into Edward’s hair, breathing deep as he stroked him. Ed’s scent filled his senses, a metallic tang laced with a sweet fragrance, and Roy purred as he pressed his groin against Ed’s ass. Ed pushed back, grinding into Roy’s hardness, then pushed back even harder to give himself room to turn around. With his back to the couch Ed dropped to his knees. 

Roy hadn’t been expecting that. Looking down at Ed kneeling in front of him, his face inches away from his crotch, Roy had to bite down on his lip to keep from coming on the spot. Dark, glittering amber gazed up at him from under copper tinted eyelids, and how had Roy never noticed how naturally thick Ed’s lashes were? The tip of Ed’s tongue traced smudged, glossy pink lips, and the blush on his cheeks flushed darker as he lifted a hand, still clad in black lace, to trace Roy’s zipper from bottom to top. Then he gripped the tab to pull it slowly down. 

Roy’s hips jerked forward in anticipation, out of his control. Ed worked at the button of Roy’s slacks and then tugged them down, boxers and all, freeing Roy’s fully hardened member. Roy’s eyes were locked on Edward, watching, shuddering at the press of Edward's tongue. He wanted to keep this going for as long as possible, and at the same time wished Edward would hurry to take him into his mouth. His wish was granted when pink-glossed lips opened, stretching wide, to let Roy’s length slide in, Edward’s eyes falling half-closed as he doubled down with a hum. 

Hands gripping Edward’s shoulders, Roy curled over him, shuddering with pleasure as Ed wrapped a gloved hand around what he couldn't fit in his mouth. Roy held back from sheer stubbornness, barely managing not to rut, but the skid of embroidered silk on his sensitive flesh was almost more than Roy could handle. The light scrape of teeth as Ed’s head began to bob pulled a groan from deep in Roy’s chest. He couldn’t help but thrust; Ed swallowed reflexively against the hard push against the back of his throat, and suddenly Roy was all the way in. 

Edward was just as surprised as Roy, and Roy couldn’t look away from wide amber eyes, pink painted lips wrapped around his cock, Ed’s nose pressed into the curls at it’s base. Roy clenched his teeth, afraid to move and risk losing precarious control, but he couldn't help himself. He rocked forward helplessly, sliding in a bit farther, and nearly lost it when Ed pulled back, hands clenched on Roy's hips. Ed groaned when Roy thrust in again and pulled out a little faster, but Ed was getting into it now, and soon found a rhythm that allowed Roy to fuck his mouth in earnest. Ed’s hand dropped from Roy’s hip to grip his own cock through his panties, the heel of his palm pressing hard as he came. 

Ed was still twitching in the grips of his own orgasm when his throat was suddenly empty. He stared up wide-eyed as Roy pulled out entirely. Then Roy was coming, all over his face. Ed flushed, obviously turned-on but not sure how to react. When he reached up to swipe, Roy batted his hand away, sinking down to a crouch. 

Leaning in with a contented hum, Roy nuzzled Edward’s face, licking away the slick warmth of his come, taking his time, not stopping until every last trace was gone. When Roy finally let him up, Ed dragged a hand across his face; it came away clean. 

"What was that?" Edward asked, slightly dazed. 

"Another apology," Roy said with half a smile. 

"Fuck." Edward seemed a bit disappointed. “I accept your apology. Again. I just wish the shit you were apologizing for this time had lasted a bit longer. I’ve been looking forward to this for years and couldn’t hold back.” 

“I’ve been battling my attraction to you for quite a while as well, and given the opportunity to indulge, I couldn’t think of a single reason not to.” Roy leaned against the back of the couch with casual ease. “Unless you’re saying that you wouldn’t be interested in an ongoing exploration of . . . me, with you?” Roy hurried to continue. “I have other kinks that might interest you, and we may discover that you have some of your own to share.” 

Edward took that into consideration. Then he smiled. 

“Well, I have a few more outfits you might like to see,” Ed said with a grin. “In fact, I’ll be wearing one tomorrow night.” 

Roy was doomed. 

And totally fine with that.


End file.
